


lil' Hanni

by pensee



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Drabble Series, Family Humor, Gen, Hannibal and Will have a biological child together, Hannibal is Papa, Kid Fic, M/M, One drabble per chapter, Whether this is ABO or Mpreg is up to you, Will is Daddy, additional tags forthcoming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23591737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensee/pseuds/pensee
Summary: “Hannibal,” Papa says, as Daddy frowns. “What do we say when we’re angry?”“I don’t care,” Hannibal says. “This is dumb, Erica’s dumb, Mrs. Petersen is dumb, dumb, dumb.”-Little Hannibal Lecter IX has absolutely no fun during Parents Day at school. Papa and Daddy attempt to come to a compromise with him.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	lil' Hanni

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was born off a Twitter thread: 
> 
> https://twitter.com/penseeart/status/1243659935390429184?s=21
> 
> Please enjoy.

“Okay, Christopher, that was a lovely presentation. Thank you also to Mr. and Mrs. Brooke for coming to our little Parents Day gathering,” Mrs. Petersen says, clapping along with the rest of the class as she calls the next family up. 

Little Hannibal crosses his arms over his chest, stomping up to the front of the class despite the warning  _ tsk  _ that Daddy gives him and the blank, disappointed look on Papa’s face. Hannibal didn’t care that it was Parents Day, or that his Papa and Daddy had skipped work this morning to attend his kindergarten class at 8 am. 

All he knew was that he had been watching Teletubbies on the TV in the den, and that Daddy had made them leave extra early because there was extra traffic on the way in. Something about road repairs. 

Hannibal knew, in the back of his mind, what road repairs were, but they were filed in a big, gigantic folder called Adult Stuff, which was in turn located in an even bigger file called Not Important. 

“Okay, Hannibal, why don’t you introduce your parents to us, and tell us about their jobs,” Mrs. Petersen says, smiling too brightly, and Hannibal decides that he hates her, he hates all the beady little kid eyes looking at him, the bland, old adult eyes looking at him, too. 

“I wanna watch Teletubbies,” he says, and Daddy squats down next to him. 

“Why don’t you just tell them who we are, baby. C’mon, please?”

Daddy’s blue eyes cross, and he does that silly thing where he tickles Hannibal on the belly, and Hannibal can’t help but laugh and bat him away. 

“Fine,” he huffs. 

In his loudest voice, he says, “This is my Daddy, and this is my Papa.”

A kid named Erica from the front row snorts. “She meant their  _ real  _ names, duh.”

Hannibal scowls. “Those  _ are  _ their real names, stupid!”

“Hannibal,” Papa says, as Daddy frowns. “What do we say when we’re angry?”

“I don’t care,” Hannibal says. “This is dumb, Erica’s dumb, Mrs. Petersen is  _ dumb, dumb, dumb _ .” 

“Okay,” Daddy says, and Hannibal snickers when he hears Mrs. Petersen gasping. 

“Okay?” 

“Okay, but I want you to say why you’re so upset, honey,” Daddy says, Papa smiling for some reason. 

“He wanted to watch Teletubbies, and we interrupted him by bringing him to school,” Papa says to Daddy, leaving Hannibal out of it. His secrecy about the whole thing makes Hannibal mad. 

“Not!  _ No way _ , Papa!” Hannibal says, but he must be a bad liar, because all Papa does is keep smiling and ruffling his hair. 

“Erm,” Mrs. Petersen coughs, the other parents looking at her as if she’s somehow lost control of a fast-moving train. “Well, that was lovely. Uh, Dr. and Mr. Lecter, everyone.”

There’s a smattering of weak clapping, though most parents are looking at their cellphones, and so are most of the children. 

Mrs. Petersen looks at her list of parents’ names and their occupations. 

_ Hm. Policeman and a doctor _ , she shivers to herself, landing on the Lecters’ names. No wonder Hannibal could afford to be such a spoiled brat. 

The train of thought is violently interrupted by a second thought:  _ Hey mister policeman, I don’t want any trouble, _ and it was at this moment Mrs. Petersen knew that she’d had enough of thinking about these two and their child. 

Meanwhile, Hannibal took his place between his Daddy and Papa, making himself comfortable and looking disapprovingly at Papa.

“Hey! Why did you tell them that?!” The boy speaks in a hushed voice, because even though nobody paid much attention to the presentations, they could still hear him pretty well.

They say little pitchers have long ears. And their parents could have short tempers. Besides, he is about to have a serious conversation with his dad, and the real men, that they are, should not get distracted.

Hannibal was angry and embarrassed. He was  _ furious _ . He promised himself, he will not have mercy on Papa, because he messed it up. And didn’t say a word about Dipsy! He’s his favourite. How is this not a big mistake?

He’d genuinely like to know the answer to his question. Was it really  _ necessary _ ?

“But that’s true!” Papa raises his eyebrows, pretending to be surprised.

He knew his little baby boy would reproach him for his incredible ability to be straightforward, when it’s not needed at all, but he loved seeing the grumpy expression on his little face, because it meant he had to apologize. And he knows exactly what he should do. Papa smiles to himself at the thought and leans closer to Hannibal to hear his exasperated whisper better.

Let’s say, he knows what is what, when it comes to fucking things up and apologizing for all the mess after. He’s an expert, you can trust him. Or ask (his) Daddy, if anything. We’re not sure if he’ll talk to you right now, because he’s been trying to doze off throughout all this damn gathering and now he finally seems to be achieving his goal successfully. Unless you want to be punished, of course. And this is solely Papa’s jurisdiction. He knows everything about it, so you can discuss it later, after little Hannibal is soundly asleep and his parents are about to have their own private celebration…

“But you could tell a lie! Aren’t you adults supposed to do so, when you need to keep quiet?”

Papa can’t deny that it’s a valid point. He wonders who his son could have possibly learned it from, and the next moment he realizes Hannibal’s staring at Daddy, whose head dips only to go up again, as the sleep seems to be kicking in. He hopes the familiar drooling will not be the case now, because it’s kind of inappropriate to salivate in the middle of the event. Well, nor is it okay to fall asleep, but what is given by nature shouldn’t be slept on. 

***

Papa recalls that one time, when they were preparing a family dinner, and he was dressing some meat to make mince from it later. He briefly looked back, watching little Hannibal, sitting at the table with his tiny legs crossed, as usual, and painting a picture in his favourite coloring book, carefully tracing the details of the drawing with colorful pencils, as the tip of his tongue was peeping out slightly, when he pressed the lead against the paper in a particularly forceful manner. 

Daddy sat next to him and helped him deal with the especially small parts from time to time. Hannibal would love to just look at them both for the rest of the eternity, taking in every little shifty move or occasional slip of a hand and being ineffably happy, he was a part of this wonderful family, but it was him who was responsible for the cooking in their household, therefore he had to turn away and continue with the dicing. 

“Will, I need a meat grinder, could you please put it there?” He nods in the direction of the cutting board, proceeding his inner butcher’s manipulations. 

Daddy stretches luxuriously and stands up from the table. 

“But you’ve said before: You don’t like it when I sit on the table,” he says on his way to the cabinet, and freezes immediately on hearing Papa’s warning cough. 

_ Did I really just say that?  _ says Daddy to himself.

_ Have I ever mentioned this? _ Papa mentally asks himself.

Very slowly, he turns around and meets two pairs of eyes, focused on him. One of them is genuinely puzzled, the other one is painfully dissatisfied. 

“‘It”. Right. I wanted to say ‘it’.” Daddy devises an excuse on the spot, to Hannibal’s amusement and Papa’s “WTF”, held back at an extremely heavy cost.

For someone, gifted with such a vivid imagination, Daddy can be exceptionally astuteness-deprived sometimes.

“Did it tell you this itself?” asks Hannibal, amazed by Daddy’s abilities to understand inanimate objects' language and looking at him in complete awe. 

What if he’s a grindermouth?! And he hasn’t even had any idea until now! He has so many questions…

“Wha… Yes, it did!” Daddy can’t thank his son enough for being such an inventor, enthusiastically nodding in response.

Papa is genuinely afraid his head is going to tear itself away.

“I’ve settled this question, honey. It's agreed to sit on the table. In fact, it enjoys it. I don’t make the rules,” he says through gritted teeth, looking fixedly into Daddy’s eyes and squeezing the handle of the knife harder.

This was Daddy's Becoming. He became an insufferable deceiver.

***

Papa comes to his senses, when Hannibal gives an especially powerful tug to the cuff of his shirt. 

“What’s wrong with you? I said, I’m offended!” Hannibal’s indignant whisper is very distinct in the dead screen-illuminated silence of the room.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin. What should I do, so you forgive me, Hanni?”

The boy pouts stubbornly, folding his arms on his tiny chest and peering at the floor. Papa strokes his hair gently and gives him a tender peck on the cheek, hoping it’ll help him rehabilitate himself. He notices him frown slightly. 

He doesn’t say anything for a while, before…

“I want a new toy!” exclaims Hannibal, happy with the idea.

“Anything for you, little one,” says Hannibal, feeling relieved at such a simple request.

Little does he know, it'll be complicated...

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on Twitter:
> 
> Hier_kommt_die_Solntce is @WizardHanni
> 
> pensée is @penseeart


End file.
